


Marriage

by BillieJ



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Government, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 12:06:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3409988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillieJ/pseuds/BillieJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In the US, babies were tested the day they were born and their protein was immediately added in the database. However, until both parts were 18, no one received one’s file.<br/>Mickey’s parents in the other hand, were a mismatched couple. They had gotten together during the 70’s and tested like a million Americans to find out they weren’t matched. Terry’s match apparently never registered, and for over a decade Mickey’s mom stayed, and comforted herself with the thought that for thousands of years people had lived their whole life without their special someone. <br/>But one day, when Mickey was 5 years old, he opened the door to a woman in black with a file, and the next thing he knew, his mother never came back."</p>
<p>Soulmate AU where you're scientifically linked to your Soulmate by the government, the day when both of you turn 18<br/>Two-Shots</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marriage

\- Private Gallagher !

\- Yes, sir ?!

Ian stood still in front of his half made bed. His sergeant, whose name was Conolly, had a weird stare.

\- This is a very important affair Gallagher. Phillip right ?

Ian’s heart skipped a beat and he stared back, unable to respond.

\- Waiting for an answer here ! snapped Sergeant Conolly.

\- Yes, sir !

They were alone in his dorm room. Ian’s heart beat fast and uneven. Had he been discovered ?

The sergeant sighed.

\- No, Gallagher, the answer is no.

_Oh. Fuck._ He HAD been discovered.

\- The other question is, why, if you turned 18 yesterday, didn’t simply wait for this day to enlist.

The sergeant opened one of the folder he was holding.

\- With full ROTC preparation. No wonder you were better than all those fuckers, undisciplined as you are. Straight As and Bs on high school. Perfect attendance, satisfied teachers. Drop the pretenses, Ian.

Ian’s breath hitched at the sound of his own name he hadn’t heard in weeks. The sergeant looked at him again and shook his head.

\- Sit down son.

He was weirdly understanding. Ian looked at him expectantly and sat slowly. The man who had spent almost the entire time he had spent here yelling at him was now speaking calmly, almost fatherly. If only Ian knew what fatherly meant. This was…Fiona-ly.

\- You did a stupid thing. Why’s that ?

Ian stayed silent.

Sergeant Conolly sighed.

\- Look, if I believe this file, your nearly perfect scores and assiduity on ROTC, I can assume that you have wanted to be in the Army a long time, is it true ?

Ian couldn’t help but nod sharply and quick, looking at his feet.

\- Then what the hell is this ? You’re depicted as a joyful but quiet and serious child in this entire folder, and we both now it’s not what I saw since you got here. Why did you do it ?

\- Had to get away.

\- And you didn’t even think of the Marriage files ? This is… insane.

Ian’s eyes widened, and a maniac giggle escaped his mouth.

 

* * *

 

 

**_KNOCK*KNOCK*KNOCK_ **

Mickey was seriously going to fucking kill anybody that was at the goddamn door.

\- Fucking what ?! he yelled at the door.

A man in black was in front of him, holding a file. Immediately Mickey understood who he was and closed the door behind him.

\- Mykola “Mickey” Milkovich ?

_Fuck. Not now._

\- Look man give me the fucking thing and go, he said, trying to control the hitches in his breath.

\- Not that simple. Your promised is in some troubles with the authorities and unfortunatly we’re going to need you now.

_What. The. Fuck._

\- Don’t you guys just let people look for each other and leave things fucking alone ?

\- Like I said. He has-...

\- Shut the fuck up !

Mickey looked nervously behind him, looking at the closed door, his guts churning at the thought of someone hearing the pronoun the man had used.

\- Look around you fucker, does that seem like fucking San Francisco to you ?! he hissed.

The government man sighed, bored, and looked at his watch.

\- Are you willing to follow me then ? You can watch the file during the ride and I’ll explain you things.

\- Alright fine.

Mickey already had his cigarettes and lighter with him. He looked behind him. He knew the day his promised will turn 18 he’ll have to leave the place immediately, without a second glance, so he had already put his important stuff away since years ago.

He grabbed the file, and went inside the black shiny car.

 

* * *

 

 

Nearly 50 years ago, scientist had found a special protein.

All the cells in the body matched themselves with markers, proteins or otherwise, like blood types. You can only give your blood to someone your blood type or whose blood type tolerates yours because otherwise your body has some strong rejection reaction.

There was this protein which affected the activation of “love”. After several research, scientists understood that perfect matches really existed. Everyone could be matched to his special someone with a simple protein marker test and a data base.

In the early 70’s, a law passed, matching people through science had become a choice. You only had to get tested and if your match had get tested you received his or her name, address, information file and photos.

Everybody was so eager to know who was their match that soon, the worldwide database was overwhelmed with informations.

They seeked for more structure. Marriage was now only open to matched couples, and civil union stayed available to mismatched people who were already together. 1977 saw the biggest divorce and marriage rate of History.

Things settled in the mid 80’s but then, ethical question began to make their entry. Babies before their birth could be tested for the “Love Protein”, so then what was the procedure ? Anyone could be matched worldwide so how every country agreed on the law ? Diplomats around the world had a gigantic amount of work to make everyone on the same page.

 

In the US, babies were tested the day they were born and their protein was immediately added in the database. However, until both parts were 18, no one received one’s file.

Mickey’s parents in the other hand, were a mismatched couple. They had gotten together during the 70’s and tested like a million Americans to find out they weren’t matched. Terry’s match apparently never registered, and for over a decade Mickey’s mom stayed, and comforted herself with the thought that for thousands of years people had lived their whole life without their special someone.

But one day, when Mickey was 5 years old, he opened the door to a woman in black with a file, and the next thing he knew, his mother never came back.

 

* * *

 

 

_\- I’m not fuking crazy alright ! Fuck you, fuck all of you ! We’ll see each other when I’ll make you suck my dick !_

Ian felt numb. He had left an over tidy place to find himself in the house of the crazy. He left his camo pants to wander around in a white outfit consisting in a cotton white tee shirt, loose trousers and pumps without laces. Hospital clothes. Sick people clothes. Crazy people clothes.

Right after he had been discovered at the Army, he went through the beginning of a psychotic break and had to go through a psych eval. He was diagnosed bipolar, in a middle of a severe manic phase, and since he had tried to strangle the psychiatrist when he heard the news, they locked him for his own security.

He was still waiting to know if the army was ever going to accept him again. He had sent the sergeant a letter, asking him what he should do. He didn’t expect much, no one liked  dead weights at the Army, but it was worth trying. His family had been warned about where he was but he had refused their visits.

A very angry black man was shouting like everyday, but this time Ian was having none of it. He stood up.

\- Okay Anton enough. Go sit somewhere else and take the fucking medication ! It’s the high right ? Back in Detroit could you just get high for free with medical supervision ? The cosy warm fucking safe high. Just take it and fucking shut your mouth.

Anton glared at him.

\- You just read you match file everyday, Private Ginger.

Ian flinched.

\- So what ?

\- You really think your match is going to get you here in the nut-ward ? Wake up private Ginger ! No fucking woman is going to get you in this place ! Just eat your shit and die !

For a moment Ian seriously considered strangling Anton, and he was sure that if the medication hadn’t been working he would already have snapped his neck.

But before he could say anything, the nurse came and shot a sorry look to Ian before injecting an agitated Anton a sedative.

Ian returned to his seat near the window, staring at the file.

No matter how manic he had been, how stupid could it be to forget his file ?

More than the Army, more that protecting his siblings, Ian always had waited for his match.

He had dreamt every night about who he was and how he could be. He had sent an update photo every year since he was 15, in case his match was overseas ( and they got to have the file younger in some places even if he had to wait until he was 18).

It turned out his match had lived in the same neighborhood he did. He had even had a child crush on him in little League before Fiona explained him the match thing.

_Mykola “Mickey” Milkovich, Chicago Illinois United States of America, Male, 20._

_Well fuck._

Ian hugged his knees again and looked through the window. He knew Mickey, of course. The obnoxious little boy in little League turned into a dangerous and difficult teenager, frightening every child and adult in the neighborhood. He had never had serious trouble with the law, which made him look even more dangerous, like he slipped through every crack.

The file didn’t have a picture, and Ian kind of wished it had because he could only picture a really dirty thug who had beaten his boss once and stole his gun. He didn’t want to believe that was the scientific absolutely perfect match for him. The only consolation was that it was a guy, so Ian hadn’t been confused with his sexuality.

But it was Mickey Milkovich. And he was in a nut house, and he was a guy. Mickey Milkovich would most likely leave him there to die.

In the message part of the file, Mickey had written : “I’ll be there, see ya”.

It didn’t even make any sense. But Ian thought he understood. If his match was Mickey, then Mickey had to be gay. He had to know he was. And anyone who knew his family could emit doubts about Mickey coming to be a part of a gay couple.

So Ian knew, deep down, that it was a promise. Mickey said he’ll be there, so even though it was highly unlikely anyone would want him, he believed in this promise, and waited, every long noisy day, trying to remember the thug.

 

* * *

 

 

\- The fucking nut house ?! That’s why you waited 5 weeks after his birthday to tell me ?

\- It’s probably the only way for him to be able to reintegrate the Army some time from now.

Mickey shaked a little, looking at the beautiful redhead with the beanie in his file. He shook his head and read the rest of it.

\- What’s that mean, unknown father ? Ain’t he Frank-fucking-Gallagher’s son ? They’re like one hundred of them.

\- The protein test goes along with a DNA test. We tell the parents on demand. He probably doesn’t know. However, it seems he has a family connection to Frank as well. But it’s not why you’re here.

Mickey looked at the G-Man expectantly.

\- Your match has a mental illness. If you want to sign a paper to refuse the link, you are excused by the government.

Mickey blinked.

\- What the fuck do you mean excused ?

The man glared back at him.

\- I understand this is your match in the regard of a scientific database, but Ian Clayton Gallagher is mentally challenged, so the government won’t hold it against you if you choose not to acknowledge the results.

Mickey’s mouth was gaping.

\- Are you fucking kidding me ?

The man frowned. Mickey’s anger was slowly reaching his fists but he just squeezed his hands hard and snapped at the man.

\- Well I come from a place where family is fuckin’ family ! He’s my perfect whatever according to your bullshit right ?

-... Yes.

Mickey’s murderous glare had its own effect on the man. He smirked and turned left on the car.

\- Alright then. We’re going to see your promised then.

\- Damn right, G-man.

 

* * *

 

 

There were white-painted iron barrels just outside the window. Everything in the hospital was sickenly white, but those were dirty, making them some kind of yellow shade. Ian watched them everyday.

“ _Yesterday I woke up sucking a lemon…_ ”

“Yo, private Gallagher, still singing ?”

Ian looked up. Anton.

“You quit shouting ?”

Anton laughed a bit and sat next to Ian.

“I’ll shout when I’ll want a shot !”

Ian shook his head but smiled a little.

“But really, what are they having you here for ?”

Ian’s eyes returned to the window. There wasn’t anything thrilling in the landscape, but at least it wasn’t all shades of white.

“You don’t look like us nuts ! Seriously, d’ya have some kind of window fucking fetish ?”

Ian glared at him, disbelieving. He shook his head.

“Bipolar.”

“Oh. Sorry man. Same.”

“Oh yeah ?”

“Yeah, but I don’t fucking have it.”

Ian snorted and shook his head.

“Course you do.”

Anton growled.

“Hey, the temper, it’s a family thing, My pa and uncle, my grandma, we’re all a little like that.”

“D’you even know what bipolar is ? asked Ian. It’s fucking genetic, of course it’s a family thing !”

“They didn’t have an excuse to off themselves and I’d never fucking do that !”

Anton had hit the table. Hard.

Ian stared blankly at him.

“All of them ?” he asked.

“Look if they thought life’s too shitty to stay with me, no doctor’s gotta give them fucking excuses.”

Ian looked at his feet.

“My mom has it.”

Anton shot him kind of an understanding look, then shook his head.

“What kind of shithead does shit like that ?”

“Well it was only because she wouldn’t get goddamn treatment ! Guess what’s gonna happen if you don’t take it too ?! Want your kid to witness you on the roof of your fucking house, screaming that you’re a phoenix to the firemen who’s trying to get you down before you fucking jump, or trying to take one sibling to raise him with a gross dyke, or even in a fucking blood bath in fucking Thanksgiving, your wrists open because what… you didn’t want to take three pills a day and eat healthy ?!”

Ian was beginning to be sick of it.

“Is that why you want to be “cured” private ? mocked Anton. Maybe you don’t want your promised girl to let you down here alone right ? It’s been more than a fucking month since you been here, fucking wake up !”

Ian hit the table, and got up.

“He’ll come.”

“He ? It’s a Bobby boy ?”

Anton laughed out loud.

“ Then it’s for sure, he’ll NEVER COME ! No guy would ever want to be with a ginger mentally ill faggot soldier !”

Ian had really tried to calm himself down. His anger was just building up and pouring all the way up to his head, blinding him.

There was no one but crazy persons here, no one was watching them. He was going to kill him.

* * *

 

Mickey was feeling a bit uncomfortable. Apparently it was a rare thing that a promised would want to meet their future husband when they were in a place like that.

He had been to juvie before, but when the secure door buzzed, he couldn’t help but feeling uneasy, looking for an escape and suddenly thinking about his sister, for some reason. A place like that, all white and depressing looked like it could breed mental illnesses in the healthiest mind. He looked around with disdain and disgust, following the government agent and the chatty nurses he’d talked to.

“Ian Gallagher… Oh Private Ginger !” realised the nurse that offered them coffee. All the other nurses nodded in unisson.

“He’s so quiet, the poor thing, he was very angry when he first came but after a few days of depression he accepted the medication.” added a brunette one.

“Poor thing…”

“Denial Anton is the one who started calling him Private Ginger right ?” asked the male nurse.

“Yes, he appears to always be picking on him for the stupidest things. It’s really because Private Gin… oh sorry, Private Gallagher is never afraid of his shouting, nor gets mad.”

“It’s really a sweet thing for you to come for him, you know, he’s a really nice person, no one can help genetics right ?”

Mickey shook his head, not sure what else to say. He looked up to the officer accompanying him.

“So when’re we supposed to meet him ?” he said, as politely as he could.

The nurses looked at each other in surprise. The brunette one held her mouth.

“Oh no one stayed ? shit shit shit, I gotta get back there, but we’ll send him don’t worry !”

Mickey nodded and sat down, next to the officer. He put the gobelet on the table and rubbed his lip.

“Nervous ?”

“No shit man.”

He giggled in response and gently tapped his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, you heard them it’s going to be fine.”

“Better fucking be.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope you enjoyed the idea ! I haven't actually finished the second so there's still time to ask me to add stuff.  
> You can always prompt me at [BaronneLetzen](http://baronneletzen.tumblr.com/)


End file.
